


R.A.B.

by RedButterfly33



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 12:52:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4667216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedButterfly33/pseuds/RedButterfly33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wand in his hand made a deliberate motion through the air and a silver goblet with the Black family insignia appeared in his hand. He slowly filled it with the potion and raised it up. Just out of curiosity, he tried to empty it on the ground, but the liquid just disappeared and when he looked to the basin again, it had magically re-filled itself. There was no other way then. </p><p>He had to die.</p><p>He would never know what it was like to lie next to the woman he loved; never know what it felt like to hold his first-born, to live his life without having to look over his shoulder, free of Voldemort and free of his guilt. He'd never have the opportunity to make up for all his mistake, to tell his brother he was sorry, nor would he ever get to tell her how he really felt...</p><p>I don't want to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	R.A.B.

* * *

The boat glided with ease over the smooth, black surface of the lake.

Kreacher was gabbling something from behind but Regulus ignored him, keeping his determined gaze forward. It wasn't long before he spotted a small island in the middle, just like the house-elf had described. His eyes fell on the dark water and he almost shuddered, spotting the floating bodies in the lake that drifted aimlessly just inches below him. The terror that was bubbling just under the surface threatened to show, but Regulus ground his teeth and kept his face calm. Panicking now would do him no good.

The small boat hit the rocky shore and he stepped off, followed by his reluctant servant.

"Master Regulus should not be here. Bad place this is, a very bad place," Kreacher kept muttering under his nose. "When the Dark Lord learns we've been here without permission the young Master will have to suffer His wrath!"

Regulus tried his best to ignore him, but the heavy ball in his stomach agreed with the elf. He should not be here. No one should be here.

He walked up to the pedestal in the middle of the island, atop which was the basin Kreacher had told him about, glowing with an ominous green light. So this was the potion the house-elf was so frightened of. His throat tightened and he swallowed thickly.

The wand in his hand made a deliberate motion through the air and a silver goblet with the Black family insignia appeared in his hand. He slowly filled it with the potion and raised it up. Just out of curiosity, he tried to empty it on the ground, but the liquid just disappeared and when he looked to the basin again, it had magically re-filled itself. There was no other way then. He had to die.

Regulus reached into his pocket and took out the duplicate locket he'd prepared for this back at Grimmauld Place. He watched it dangle from the delicate chain wrapped around his fingers and thought about how his short life would come to an end. He thought about his family, about how his mother would react upon hearing of it, about how his cousins might even shed a tear. Then he thought about his brother, how he had chosen to be free, something Regulus had never had the spine to do. What would Sirius think of his death? He'd no doubt believe that his idiot brother got in too deep, then turned tail and tried to run away.

Yes, Sirius would probably think him a coward.

He looked down at his reflection in the basin and saw himself – a boy, a foolish boy that signed up for something he was not ready for, something he could never escape. Had he always been this pale?

The young man brought the goblet down to the basin to fill it up with the vile potion, but his hand shook. Unexpectedly all his doubts, hesitations, his fears, his cowardice, all the feelings he had managed to suppress up until that point flooded his barriers and overwhelmed him. It was all suddenly real, and the realization he was about to die hit him like a battering ram.

He was about to die.

He would never know what it was like to lie next to the woman he loved; never know what it felt like to hold his first-born, to live his life without having to look over his shoulder, free of Voldemort and free of his guilt. He'd never have the opportunity to tell his brother he was sorry, nor would he ever get to tell _her_ how he really felt...

_I don't want to die._

For only a moment his grip on the goblet loosened, but just as it started to slip his fingers tightened around it again, this time so hard his knuckles turned white.

Something moved in the reflected light of his wand and he saw a ghoulish pale hand float just beneath the water. Bile rose up in his throat and suddenly every single person he had ever tortured flashed to the forefront of his mind. Large, begging eyes, blood-curdling screams, wet tear tracks running down horrified faces. No, there was no going back. He couldn't undo the damage he'd done yesterday, but maybe, just maybe, if he acted now, if he did it quickly enough, there could be hope for tomorrow.

There was no life for him out there. The second Voldemort realized he had betrayed him he would be living on borrowed time. And Voldemort _would_ find out, of this he was sure. There were so many things he would never get to experience, but he had forfeited his life the minute the thought of rebellion had even entered his mind. It was not fair that no one would ever know of the only brave thing he had ever done, but he hoped that with this one last act he would make up for some of the wrongs he had committed. That maybe by doing this he would finally give his short life something he had pointlessly searched for elsewhere - meaning.

"Let Kreacher drink it, Master Regulus! Kreacher is most willing to—"

"No," Regulus said firmly. "I must do this. You are to force this potion down my throat, no matter what I say. And after I am dead, you are to get out of this cave and destroy the locket. That is an order."

Kreacher whimpered sadly, but the young Slytherin ignored him and raised the goblet to his lips.


End file.
